


I Love You

by Irollforinitiative



Series: Mystrade Fluff Drabbles [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Drabble, M/M, first time saying I love you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 17:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1436863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irollforinitiative/pseuds/Irollforinitiative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Domestic drabble in which Greg and Mycroft have an average day. Except for the part where Greg realizes how much he loves Mycroft and works up the nerve to say it for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Love You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Avengersaremyforte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avengersaremyforte/gifts).



> I asked for a prompt on tumblr to get me back in the writing mood and Avengersaremyforte suggested domestic. It's not my best writing but it's a fun little ficlet to get me going again.

Every day started the exact same. Somewhere after the one month mark in their relationship Mycroft and Greg had fallen into a pattern. It wasn't a rut. It was comfort. The kind of comfort that meant there wasn't any big discussion about moving in together. One day Greg just realized he hadn't been to his flat in weeks. The next day his clothes were moved from the pile they'd formed on the floor of the bedroom into the closet. Greg terminated his lease within the week. So it was not of concern to either of them that every morning Mycroft woke first. The man rarely slept so it was easy for him to get up first. If it was a weekday he would shower, shave, and dress while Greg still slept. Greg would be woken with a kiss as Mycroft left the bedroom to head downstairs. Once downstairs, Mycroft made coffee and toast for the both of them. Greg took minutes to shower and dress, so he arrived in the kitchen as the toast popped. Kisses and smiles were exchanged and the two got into their respective cars and left for work.

Today was like every other day. Except it wasn't. After kissing Mycroft goodbye, Greg got into his squad car and sat in the driveway of their townhouse for a few moments longer than usual. He watched Mycroft drive down the street and realized he'd never said it. He'd never said the three words he'd felt for what seemed like ages. Three months together. Three months of kisses and touches. Three months of finding a regimen of living next to one another and Greg had fallen hopelessly in love with Mycroft, but somehow never said it. Greg drove to the Yard in a slight haze, his thoughts on Mycroft.

His joy was forcibly set aside when he got to work and was bombarded with casework. His day was a swirl of bodies and blood and paperwork. Mycroft, for his part, was busy as well. Mycroft's days were always busy. When one worked for the government in such a facility that they did not even have an official title, one found themselves with almost no free time. That didn't mean Mycroft did not think of Greg. Greg was never far from Mycroft's mind. Even during the days. So when five thirty came around and Mycroft was finishing off his last meeting of the day, Mycroft did so with a smile. Unless he'd texted, Greg would leave at five. This meant that Mycroft got to come home to a warm kiss and a fresh cup of tea every day.

With a grin, Mycroft gathered his papers and slipped them into his briefcase. He dealt with a few more necessary bits of small talk before finally making his way into the black car he took everywhere. Anthea was already there waiting for him.

"How was work, sir?" She asked, typing away on her blackberry.

Mycroft sighed and stared out the window as the car started, "You know very well that it was boring and busy."

She asked him that every day even though his answer was always along the same lines. She managed his schedule and served as assistant during particularly difficult days so she always knew the kind of day Mycroft had. And yet she always asked because it was the kind thing to do.

"I don't much feel like waiting for food tonight. Will you order in Thai for us?" Mycroft glanced over at Anthea halfway through the drive.

She looked up from her blackberry and smiled a little, "The Detective Inspector texted to say he was getting dinner for you both."

"Oh…then never mind."

Mycroft looked back out the window, watching the city pass by. He smiled and his shoulders relaxed as the car turned onto the street his house was on. His and Greg's house as it was now. In his early thirties Mycroft had resigned himself to spending the rest of his life alone. At first it had been resignation and then after a while he decided it was better that way. Excessive work and outrageous hours had never made for happy relationships. That coupled with a general lack of interest in sex meant Mycroft hadn't thought his house would ever be "our" house in his mind. But Greg was stubborn and defiant and loved him even for all his faults.

As soon as the car stopped Mycroft headed into the house. Greg heard the sound of the car and poured the wine he'd bought on the way home. It wasn't as nice as what Mycroft would choose when picking out wine, but it was a nice bottle still and would go well with the Italian he'd brought home.  As soon as the front door opened Mycroft was pulled into Greg's arms and kissed thoroughly. Mycroft dropped his bag and held Greg, kissing back and smiling softly against his mouth.

"I simply love coming home to that." Mycroft sighed and smiled.

Greg chuckled and kissed him again softly. "I love greeting you that way."

Mycroft stepped back and looked into the kitchen as he pulled his jacket off and undid his tie. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion at all. I felt like it." Greg shrugged and handed Mycroft a glass of wine.

"None at all? How did I get so lucky." Mycroft sipped the wine and smiled, "Can I help at all?"

Greg shook his head, "No. Just sit at the kitchen table. I don't feel like eating in the dining room."

Mycroft sat at the small table, still smiling. At work he never seemed to smile at all. But as soon as he came home Mycroft found that he never seemed to stop smiling. Greg was smiling too as he filled plates for them and set it down at the small table.

"Eat up, my dear." Greg smiled and sat across from Mycroft.

Mycroft stared at him for a long moment and nodded, still smiling wide, "Thank you for this."

Greg blushed a little and looked away, his stomach fluttering with the love he hadn't yet expressed, "It's my pleasure."

Dinner was eaten in silence as usual. They spoke so much at work that a chance to sit there together in happy silence was relaxing. Near the end of the meal Greg reached out and took Mycroft's free hand. Mycroft looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. This wasn't part of their routine.

"Are you okay?" Mycroft rubbed his thumb over the back of Greg's hand.

"I…" Greg sighed and smiled, "I'm fine. Just feeling affectionate."

Mycroft nodded, "I'm not complaining. I like it." he went back to eating.

When they'd finished eating, Greg stood and grabbed the dirty plates, carrying them to the dishwasher. Mycroft followed and refilled their wine glasses.

"Television?" Mycroft handed Greg his refilled wine glass.

Greg smiled and raised an eyebrow, "Together? You're not going to work?"

Mycroft chuckled and shook his head, "You brought home dinner and wine. I can take one night off from work. Besides, last night I felt frisky but you were already asleep because the time got away from me."

Greg grinned and shook his head, "Poor darling. Can't have you going to bed horny two nights in a row."

Mycroft blushed and led them into the living room. The two of them didn't have sex every night but it was still somehow a part of their routine. A night without working was one of the cues that sex was on the docket for the night. As always, Greg took the remote. He turned on reruns of Doctor Who and Mycroft settled against his side, still sipping his wine.

"Is this okay?" Greg set the remote aside and kissed Mycroft's temple.

Mycroft smiled and hummed softly, "It's perfect."

What was on the television didn't matter. Unless it was a weekend and they had the day off, the two of them never actually watched the television. It served as a pretense of habit. A cover for the fact that moments after they'd sat and turned the television on, Greg's hands would start wandering. Like usual, they didn't even make it to the first commercial break before Greg's hand was under Mycroft's waistcoat.

Mycroft sighed softly and kissed behind Greg's ear as Greg hand started working on his many buttons. It had taken Greg a few tries to get good at the buttons, but he'd finally turned it into an art form, his fingers flying across the buttons of Mycroft's waistcoat and shirt. By the time Mycroft had thoroughly kissed Greg's neck, Greg had his shirt off and thrown to the ground.

"Why do I ever work at night when I could be doing this?" Mycroft smiled and kissed Greg again.

He said something similar every time they had sex on a week night. By the next night enough work would pile up that he'd have to deal with it, sex drive or not.

Greg chuckled and started on Mycroft's belt, "Because work is shit and I hate it for taking you away from me."

Mycroft leaned back and smiled softly at him. That wasn't part of the routine. In the routine Greg was supposed to keep kissing him and let the question go unanswered.

Mycroft cupped his cheek and smiled, "Gregory, what has gotten into you? You've been acting strange all night."

"Nothing's gotten into me, Myc. Yet." Greg smiled and kissed his neck.

Mycroft caught his shoulders and pushed him back gently, shaking his head, "No, I mean it. What is going on?"

A thousand scenarios flashed through Mycroft's head, most of them involving Greg leaving him or being diagnosed with a horrible illness.

His eyes got scared and he frowned, "Gregory please tell me."

Greg saw the fear in Mycroft's eyes and kissed him firmly, "Okay. Don't look so scared it's just…I mean that I…"

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and cupped Greg's cheek, "What is it?"

"I love you." Greg looked Mycroft in the eye and waited, scared of the reaction.

Mycroft stared at him for a long moment before he smiled softy and kissed Greg again. Greg raised his eyebrows and kissed back for a moment before pulling away.

"You don't have to say anything back but knowing if your reaction is positive or negative would be nice. The kiss makes me think positive but I still want to hear--"

He was cut off by Mycroft kissing him again, pulling away slightly to smile against his mouth. "I love you too, Greg."

Greg leaned back and grinned wide, "You do?"

Mycroft chuckled softly and sighed, "Of course I do. I thought you knew that."

"You've never said it before so I just assumed…"

"I know but I didn't think I needed to. After your divorce you seemed so hesitant to talk emotions so I just didn't say anything. But you live with me. You are the one think I look forward to when I come home every day. I love you so very much."

Greg kissed him firmly and smiled, "Well then I got nervous for nothing."

Mycroft kissed Greg back, getting back to what they'd been doing before. By the next day exchanging an "I love you" here and there throughout the day had become a part of their routine. It was wonderfully comfortable. 


End file.
